Desertion
by Mage and Knight
Summary: Bethany leaves Sabrina in the middle of the night, and Sabrina can't figure out why. Bethany has a good reason for leaving, but it is entirely secret.Takes place directly before and during Dragons of Autumn Twilight. Rated T. No slash.
1. Chapter One

Title: Desertion  
Written By: Anargil and SolamnicKender (Mage and Knight)  
Summary: Bethany leaves at midnight. Sabrina can't figure out why.  
Disclaimer: We don't own anything you recognize.

Chapter One: Departure. It begins. Where's Luthien?  
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Bethany opened her eyes. Sabrina was asleep; the fire had burned low. Lunitari was out, casting everything in red, and the stars were bright. It was time to go.

Silently she slid out of her bedroll, rolled it up, and attached it to her pack, and then took the waterskin she had prepared and attached that too. She stood and silently began to walk away, northward. Then she paused for a moment, thinking, looking behind her at the still sleeping Sabrina. "I can't just leave her... but I must. She's going to be pissed at me for leaving her when... and if... I get back. It's the only way. I have to do this alone." With a final nod to her sleeping friend, Bethany strode forward across the plain, quicker and softer than a shadow.

She knew exactly where she had to go, though she had never been to her destination. Some unseen force drove her, spurring her on through the night without rest. After a few hours, the sun rose, dew on the grass glowing red in its' early crimson light.

Suddenly, she paused. Closing her eyes for a moment, palms suddenly sweating with nerves, a quote from Raistlin in the Soulforge came to mind : "I _will_ do this. Nothing in my life matters except this. No moment of my life exists except this moment. I am born in this moment, and if I fail, I will die in this moment." Holding her breath in anticipation and fearing that what she needed wouldn't be there, she turned, and let out a gasp of relief. There was the forest of Wayreth. The Council had indeed decided to let her in.

Cautiously walking into the dark of the forest, it wasn't long before she couldn't see her hand in front of her face. She quietly spoke a few words in the language of magic and held out her hand, and a small flame appeared, floating above her palm. She continued on with the conjured flame lighting her way.

Before long, she reached the gates of the tower. Nerves taut to the fullest, her awareness levels were soaring. She could hear the rustle of every leaf, the crackling of every twig. Her heart pounded in her throat, she couldn't breathe... but not letting any of this show, she opened the gate and slid through, then closed it behind her.

The next few minutes passed as a dream to her. She was going to take her Test in the Tower of High Sorcery. It was almost overwhelming. She'd dreamed, but never believed this would happen to her. She stood with the six other initiates as they awaited their Tests. A bell rang in the Tower, and a disembodied voice and hand guided them into the Hall of Mages and then through to the Council Chambers. Each initiate was summoned down a dark hallway. When it finally came to be her turn, it was then that Bethany finally came to herself. She would need all her wits and every scrap of magical knowledge she had to pass the Test. Failure would mean... death.

With a final prayer to the gods of magic for guidance, Bethany walked down the hallway toward her destiny.

Sabrina woke, the bright sun in her eyes. Her first thought was how nice it was to sleep late, even when sleeping on the ground. This was quickly overshadowed by her second thought: Why didn't Bethany wake me up?

She opened her eyes, squinting in the mid-morning sunlight. Looking around, it quickly became apparent that Bethany wasn't there. "Bethie?" she called, wondering if she was just taking a walk or something. No answer. "Was she captured?" Sabrina thought, vowing to go and make sure that every captor was slain by her sword if that was the case, but then she noticed that not just Bethany was gone. Her bedroll, back pack... everything was gone. "Could she have... deserted me?" Sabrina considered that thought, then negated it. "No, she wouldn't do that. She's my best friend! She wouldn't just leave me for no reason. Something must have happened. Maybe she's just hiding, and as soon as I actually get up and start looking for her, she'll pop out and scare me half to death."

Sabrina rose, looked around, and peeked behind several nearby bushes and trees, each time expecting Bethany to jump out at her, and each time being disappointed. Finally there was nothing to do but pack up her stuff and pretend she was leaving. Maybe if she started to leave, Bethany would give up hiding and follow her, saying she had been kidding. But an hour later, after packing up very slowly and walking very slowly away from their most recent campsite, there was still no sign of Bethany.

Finally, at the end of that day, Sabrina was fully convinced that Bethany had either left or been captured, leaning towards captured because Bethany just leaving was too hard to think about. "I'm not that bad of a traveling companion, am I?" Sabrina thought, sitting beside the fire she'd had to make herself because Bethany hadn't been there to cast a fire spell. "I travel fine. I don't run, but Bethany doesn't run much either in those mage robes... She must have been captured, and her captors were smart enough to take all of her stuff with her so I'd think she deserted me. That's got to be it. I'll just keep looking for her on my way back to the meeting."

TBC


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Desertion  
Written By: Anargil and SolamnicKender (Mage and Knight)  
Summary: Bethany takes her Test and encounters someone unexpected. Sabrina also encounters someone.  
Disclaimer: We don't own anything you recognize.

Chapter Two: The trade. Realization. Bloody Solamnics.  
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With a noise of frustration, Bethany froze and stood stock-still, listening again. She heard the noise of labored breathing, coming from very close, but the couldn't quite pinpoint it. Closing her eyes, she turned very slowly on the spot, and suddenly she could tell the location of it. To her right, about twenty feet through the brush.

She hurried forward, quickly but silently, until she reached the spot. There was Sabrina! "She doesn't look too good," Bethany thought, eyeing her friend. Dried blood on her forehead contrasted with Sabrina's face, pale even in the red glow of the firelight, as she sat leaned up against a tree, hands chained to a nearby root. Dark spots were all over her armor; "More blood," Bethany realized darkly, wondering what they could have done to her friend. But before she rushed in and saved her, Bethany reviewed the situation. No sign of Sabrina's captors... might be a trap. Warily, she proceeded into the clearing, at the same time bringing to mind several spells, all which would incinerate any ambush with a few brief words.

As she had suspected, a man charged at her, drawing a blade as he did so. Before he could get within ten feet of her, she began casting her spell. "Ast kiranann kair soth-arn suh kali jalaran," she said, spreading her fingers and sending a ball of fire at the man. With screams of pain, he burned up. Another man came at her more slowly, wary now that he knew she was a magic-user. "Ast kiranann kair gadunrm soth-arn suh kali jalaran," she said, and a lightning bolt flew at the man and struck him in the chest. He fell to the ground and lay still beside his smoldering companion. Bethany couldn't help but smile as the ecstasy of the magic washed over her, even as she felt herself weaken slightly from the strains of spell-casting.

She strode over to Sabrina and knelt beside her, taking the chain that held her friend's hands bound and disintegrating it with another few well-chosen words. "Sabrina?" she said, slapping the pale face lightly. "Come on. Wake up. You're safe, at least for the moment."

At the known voice, Sabrina's eyes opened, looking rather glazed. "Bethie?" she asked, confused and dazed.

"Yes, I'm here," Bethany said, taking Sabrina's hand and squeezing it to emphasize the fact. "Come on. We've got to get you to a healer." She stood, bringing Sabrina up with her and then pulling her arm over her own shoulders. Slowly, half-carrying, half-dragging Sabrina along with her, the two left the clearing.

After about twenty minutes of trying to get back to camp, Bethany stopped, out of breath and exhausted, letting Sabrina down against a tree. Sabrina, still half-conscious, tried to open her eyes. "Are we there yet?" she asked softly, as if through a haze.

"Not yet," Bethany replied. "Just taking a breather. We'll be there soon." Sabrina did not look good. For the first time, Bethany noticed that blood seemed to be dripping out from underneath her armor. Whipping her dagger out from her sleeve, she severed the straps that held the armor on and pulled the chestplate off. There was a huge tear in the leather tunic underneath, and as she pulled aside the blood-soaked fabric, she saw that there was a nasty gut-wound. Some of the intestines were torn and hanging loose, and blood seemed to be everywhere. Immediately, Bethany knew that Sabrina could not be saved. Clerics had not yet returned to the land, and without the help of a cleric of Mishakal, there was no way Sabrina would live.

Tucking the dagger back inside the sleeve of her robes, she stood, wondering what to do. There was no point in dragging Sabrina all the way back to camp if she was just going to die, but it seemed wrong to just leave her here, and she couldn't just wait for her to die, she needed to get back to camp before the others came after her. Either way, she couldn't bury her by herself, and Bethany knew that even she, as cold-hearted as she could be, would find it very hard to cremate her best friend.

Suddenly she sensed something behind her and she turned around. There was a cleric, right behind her! A tall man with a long white beard, dressed in grey, colorless robes. Immediately she was wary. That was impossible, and way too good to be true. The cleric held out his hand. "May I offer any assistance?" he asked.

"If you were actually a cleric, you would be able to," she said coldly.

The man laughed. "You are smart indeed," he said. "I am not a cleric. But I can assist you, if not your friend."

"Lets see if you can assist my friend first," Bethany said, indicating Sabrina.

"I would help her if I could, but even I cannot bring back the dead without help," the man said.

"What? She's not dead, she's - " But even before she could turn around, Bethany knew the old man was right. She had almost felt the life force leaving Sabrina. She felt water on her face and realized she was crying. Straightening, she composed herself. Though she couldn't stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks, Bethany faced the man. "If my friend is already dead, I see no way you can assist me," she said icily.

"Ah, but there is," the man said. "It's a terrible thing, is it not, to stand by and watch a friend die when you can do nothing?"

"It is," Bethany said, "But it cannot be helped now."

"It can, as a matter of fact," the man said, stepping forward.

Bethany stepped back, keeping the distance between them. "You said you couldn't help her," she said.

"I can't. But you can," the man said, smiling cryptically and, Bethany thought, rather sinisterly.

"How?" she asked warily.

"I simply require something from you," the man said. "Something dear to you. Something you use or are around every day of your life."

"Any suggestions?" Bethany decided to compare the price to the profit, and see if it was worth it before she made any deals.

The man stroked his beard, thinking. "Your sense of sight, maybe?"

Bethany stepped back, surprised. Her sight was valuable to her, but if it would bring Sabrina back... "I don't need to study my spells, to remember them, but if I lose my sight I'll only be able to cast the spells that I know now. I'll never learn any new ones. But I have to bring Sabrina back. I have to make sure I set every term, though, and be very specific about it all," she thought. "This old man seems to be a crafty one... he'll twist anything I say."

"I'll agree to your proposed bargain," Bethany said. "My sense of sight for Sabrina Suzy-Q Castle's life. But you have to return her full life, not just bring her back for a second and call that giving back her life. It has to be at least eighty more Krynn years that she's brought back for. She has to be as fully functional as she was before she was injured, and you have to heal her wounds, inside and outside, completely as well. And you have to bring her back first, and then transport her back to the same camp I left six hours ago to come and rescue her, before you can take my sense of sight."

The old man smiled. "Wise girl. Set every term so that I have no margin for error or deviation. I accept your bargain."

Bethany nodded curtly. "Ready whenever you are."

The man walked over to Sabrina and knelt beside her, placing his hand on her forehead and whispering something unintelligible. Immediately the wounds on Sabrina's stomach and head healed, and her eyes fluttered open. Looking around briefly, her eyes found Bethany. "Bethie?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"A simple trade, Sabrina," Bethany said. "You're going to get sent back to camp in a moment. I'll join you soon." She nodded at the old man, who began the teleportation spell. As Sabrina's form began to fade out, Bethany implanted a picture of her in her mind, knowing it would be the last time she ever saw her friend with her eyes.

"Now, there's one other thing," the old man said, turning to Bethany. "I can't take away your sight in this forest. It's slightly enchanted, so it doesn't handle certain spells very well. And this happens to be one of them. So I'm going to transport us out of the forest so I can perform the spell."

"Go ahead," Bethany said without thinking.

The old man grinned wickedly and performed another teleportation spell. Bethany closed her eyes, feeling the rush as she was transported, and then finally opened them. Her eyes widened in shock and horror. "No," she whispered, hardly able to breathe.

The old man was already performing his next spell, and she felt her vision being torn from her, as if someone was tearing out the very center of her being. It hurt more than she could have imagined. But her last sights hurt her even more. She saw her house back in the real world. Her world with no magic, no adventure... and now no Sabrina, who was still back in Krynn. No more magic... "You bastard!" she yelled at the old man. "You bring me back to Krynn right now! To the Tower in the Forest of Wayreth!"

"I don't think so," she heard the man's voice.

"I'll bargain something else with you," she pleaded. "Just send me back. Please!"

"Unfortunately," the man said, "you have nothing that I want. I'm afraid there will be no bargain."

"I can't handle it here," she said, beginning to sob in desperation. "I can't be here. Not after living in the world with magic. I'll never feel the magic take control again..."

"Indeed you will not," the old man replied. "You'll have to settle for the mundanities of this life. But at least you know Sabrina's safe for another eighty years, correct?"

Bethany had sunk to her knees, crying uncontrollably. "Bring me back..." she moaned. "Bring me back... I beg of you... I can't deal with this, I need my magic... I waited so long, wishing for a chance to leave the world and go somewhere with magic... don't leave me here..."

"I will not take you back with me," the man said, a cruel smile in his voice. Somehow, Bethany knew he would not and could not be persuaded.

Mind racing, she found the only quick way out, and the idea both relieved her and horrified her. "I must," she murmured. "I can't live here. Not after experiencing all I've experienced." She drew her dagger out of her sleeve, stroking the blade with her fingertip. "Mage's last defense," she whispered. "A life for a life. A life taken, given back, and now another life taken," she thought, seeing the deal that she had, in actuality, made with the man. She placed the point of the dagger on her throat, holding it poised, ready. "Death will be kinder than being forced to live in a world without magic," she whispered with finality. She had made her decision. With that, she plunged the dagger into the base of her throat, right above the collarbone.

The pain was terrible, but she welcomed it, feeling the blackness start to take her. As she collapsed onto the hard pavement of the road, she couldn't help but feel a little regret. "And I was just about to finish my Test, too," she thought.

It was then that she realized her foolishness. This had all been part of her Test in the Tower. She knew who the old man who still stood above her, watching her die, was, and a laugh gurgled in her throat, blood spilling out over her lips that were touched with a bitter smile. "Fistandantilus," she whispered. Even as she lay there in a pool of her own blood, she felt something trying to enter her mind. She remembered then that Raistlin, having encountered Fistandantilus in his own Test, remembered nothing about it afterward, and that Par-Salian had told Antimodes that Fistandantilus 'had seen to that.' She didn't want to not remember, even if she was about to die. If she, by some unhappy chance, lived, then she would need to know why her sight was not with her. Desperately. she tried to block him out of her mind, trying a trick she had learned from a character in a computer game. Atton, from Knights of the Old Republic Two. She began to recite a verse from a poem in her head that she had memorized long ago for an English class, thinking as she did how well the verse fit the situation. "Oh, dream too bright to last… Oh starry hope that didst arise, but to be overcast..." To her consternation and near panic, she could not remember the rest of the verse, so she started the next one. "For alas! alas! with me, the light of life is o'er... No more, no more, no more..."

She heard Fistandantilus's grunt of frustration. "I see I will not be able to penetrate your mind, young one," he said, kneeling down beside her. She would have shoved him away, but she lacked the strength to raise her arm. "Though I do not know why you desire the knowledge of me so badly."

She thought nothing, just continued to recite those lines in her head, concentrating on them and nothing else. Fistandantilus stood and walked away from her, and she heard him reciting something she recognized as a teleportation spell, then the final rush of magic as he vanished.

"Fistandantilus..." she whispered as she sank into welcome oblivion.

Sturm Brightblade walked briskly along the path, almost but not quite a march. His ancient Solamnic sword clanked at his side, his moustaches blew in the slight breeze. The sun shone down on his brown-haired head, just warm enough. "What a perfect day," he thought. Though pessimistic a lot of the time, he was certainly able to enjoy a beautiful day like this one.

Suddenly there was a yell from behind him and a cry of "Sturm! Is that you? Wait up! Bloody Hell slow down!" He turned, straining his eyes to see who it was that was yelling to him, he realized in surprise who it was. Sabrina! He hadn't seen her in almost five years, since the Companions left Solace! Needless to say, he was glad to see her, but as he saw her running toward him, he realized something was wrong. Sabrina never ran unless there was trouble. Something urgent.

"Sabrina!" he said as she ran up to him, panting to catch her breath. "What's wrong?"

"It's... Be - Luthien!" Sabrina gasped through wheezing breaths, remembering in time to use Bethany's false name. "I think she's... been captured!"

"Are you sure?" Sturm said, his expression darkening at the name of Sabrina's magic-user friend whom he disliked quite a lot. "Was she captured? Or did she just leave you?"

"No," Sabrina said, still gasping. "She wouldn't just leave me for no reason. She must have been captured."

"Ah, but there is a reason," Sturm pointed out. "She's a disloyal, dishonest magic-user! She would leave you gladly if it suited her needs."

"Oh, shut up, you!" Sabrina snapped. "Still on about that, are you? You'd think all this traveling would have lessened your disapproval somewhat! I see I was wrong in assuming you'd be nicer. Bloody Solamnics! Never mind!" She marched past him, pushing him aside as she continued north along the road toward Solace.

"Wait, wait, I didn't mean that!" Sturm said, hurrying after her. "I was just trying to put every possibility into your head, that's all."

"Well, that's not a possibility!" Sabrina yelled, turning around and fixing Sturm with a vicious glare that reminded him alarmingly of the very mage she was trying to find.

"Alright, I'm sorry!" Sturm said, trying to calm her down. "Can I help you look for her?"

"Yes, if you're going to quit the snide remarks," Sabrina said caustically. Then her expression softened. "I have to say, I'm almost out of hope. I've been looking for her for over a month! If she was captured, she's probably dead by now."

"I'm sure she'd find someway to avoid being killed. She's certainly good enough at avoiding everything else," Sturm commented, reflecting back at how long Luthien had avoided telling the Companions her name. He wasn't sure if Luthien was even her real name.

Sabrina laughed at that, knowing exactly what Sturm was talking about. "You're right. There is a chance."

"The meeting's about a month from now," Sturm continued. "We'll keep looking until then, and then we'll go to the meeting. If she's alive, she'll be there."

Sabrina nodded and the two continued northeast in a roundabout route to Solace.

TBC


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Desertion  
Written By: Anargil and SolamnicKender (Mage and Knight)  
Summary: Bethany spends time in the Tower and encounters someone else unexpected. Sabrina is sad and is then comforted.  
Disclaimer: We don't own anything you recognize.

Chapter Three: Blindness. Ironic. Dalamar Argent.  
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Slowly, Bethany felt herself regain consciousness. "Where am I, and what is the time," she thought, using a line from the Lord of the Rings. She opened her eyes to see... nothing. Blinking a few times, she passed her hand in front of her face, wondering if it was just dark out, but she could see absolutely nothing. She felt the slight rush of air as her hand passed her face, missing her by centimeters, but she could see no change in the pure blackness that surrounded her. As she tried to raise her other arm, the left one, she gasped as a knife of pain stabbed into her neck and deep into her chest. The pain helped bring her completely to consciousness, and she remembered. Her Test. She'd traded her sight for Sabrina's life. And then she'd been transported into the real world by Fistandantilus and left there... but was she really there? Or was that just an illusion as part of her Test? Only one way to find out...

She raised her hands slowly, ignoring the pain that erupted in her neck again, and tried to say the words that would cast a fireball. But, as she started to say them, she realized that nothing was coming out of her mouth but air. Trying to speak hurt almost as much as raising her left arm did. "Did I lose my ability to speak, too?" she thought in horror. Even if she was back in Krynn, without her voice, she wouldn't be able to cast spells, and wouldn't experience the magic again anyway.

At that moment, someone grabbed her raised hands. "I recognize those gestures. No fireballs in the Tower, if you please," the voice said. It was the voice of an old man, but different, very different, than the voice of Fistandantilus.

She motioned to her throat, trying to speak again and wincing.

"Yes, I suspected that," the voice said. "Don't worry, you'll regain your voice very soon. When you were stabbed in the chest, you nicked a corner of your voicebox. It will heal quickly; it was a very small cut. I believe, if you whisper, you will be able to be heard."

Relieved beyond all measure, Bethany then motioned to her eyes.

"What's wrong with..." the old man said, moving up so he could look into her open but sightless eyes. "Oh, dear. He did do something to you, didn't he?"

"Fistandantilus," she whispered the word.

"Indeed," the man said. "He blocked out that part of your Test. We couldn't monitor it. He is stronger now, and we don't know why. He is able to intervene in more Tests than before and affect them more. We are studying this."

"Who are you?" Bethany whispered.

"Par-Salian, Master of this Tower," the man said. "I apologize for not identifying myself sooner."

"What did Fistandantilus do to my eyes?" she asked. "How did he steal my sight?"

"We don't know how he stole it, but your eyes don't look too different, I don't think. What color are they normally?"

"Grey."

"In that case, he only changed the appearance of your eyes a little. He... Your pupils have been removed."

Bethany's mouth opened briefly as she tried to picture her steel-grey eyes without pupils. Then she closed it and whispered, "That bastard."

There was a rueful smile in Par-Salian's voice as he replied. "Indeed."

"Will I be able to see in any way again?" Bethany asked.

"I don't know for sure," Par-Salian said. "There are spells that enable sight through magic, but none return normal sight to the caster. And, like any other spell, they take energy to cast and maintain. All are hard to master."

"I will do whatever it takes," Bethany whispered firmly. Then, abruptly changing the subject, she asked "How did I do on my Test?"

"Quite well," Par-Salian replied. "If our friend Fistandantilus had not intervened, you would have passed very easily. But since he did, you passed, but just barely. You very nearly died."

"That was my fault," Bethany answered. "I couldn't handle being back in the real world. I stabbed myself."

"I suspected as much," Par-Salian said ruefully. "That doesn't disqualify you, but it does change the color of your robes."

"What was I granted originally?" Bethany wondered.

"White, but now that we see you're completely devoted to the magic and will do anything, even kill yourself and probably others, to keep it... that kind of obsession grants you red robes."

Bethany nodded, thinking "Thank the gods. White is too much like a cleric. I probably would have blown something up if I'd gotten white robes." And then she remembered something. "What is the date?" she whispered.

"The seventeenth day of Summer Run. You were unconscious for more than a week," Par-Salian said.

Bethany calculated mentally for a moment. "That means I've got about nine weeks until the meeting," she thought. "When can I leave the Tower?" she whispered aloud.

"As soon as you are healed," Par-Salian said. "Now, I'm going to put you back to sleep. The body heals best when it is completely at rest. You will awaken in a few hours." Bethany nodded, and Par-Salian performed the sleep spell. "Ast tasarak sinuralin krynawi."

Immediately, her eyes began to slide shut and she drifted off into uneasy dreams.

Sabrina sat beside the campfire, brooding. It was only two weeks until the reunion, and there was still no sign of Bethany. It was as if she had vanished off the face of the planet. Her streams of thought brought her to an alarming possibility. What if she had fallen back into the real world? Sabrina shivered and looked absolutely miserable at the thought. "That would be horrid," she thought. "And worst of all I didn't go, so now she's all alone, without magic, in our own boring world. God, she must hate me!" That thought made her even more miserable than the first one.

Sturm returned from gathering firewood to find Sabrina curled up near the campfire with slow tears falling down her face. "What happened?" Sturm asked, dropping his armload of wood and rushing to Sabrina's side. "What's the matter?" he questioned, hovering above her, feeling helpless.

"Nothing," Sabrina sniffled, trying to wipe the tears from her face, but they were immediately replaced with fresh ones.

Hesitantly, Sturm knelt down and gingerly hugged the gently sobbing woman. "It's the mage, isn't it," he said gruffly.

Sabrina simply nodded her head.

"I am... sure everything will be alright," Sturm assured her awkwardly.

"Oh, Sturm," she said sadly. "You don't really think everything's going to turn out right, do you? You're just saying that for my sake."

"No," Sturm said thoughtfully, "I really do think everything will turn out alright. The Gods would not be so cruel as to take away someone you obviously love so much."

Sabrina gave a half-sob, half-laugh at the irony of the situation. "Oh, but they're going to. They are going to."

"No," Sturm said fiercely. "I won't let them."

Sabrina gave a small cry and buried her head in the knight's shoulder. She lay there sobbing, Sturm stroking her hair and murmuring reassurances until she finally slipped, exhausted, into the comforting embrace of slumber. Drawing his cloak about them both, he leaned back against the tree, making sure his father's sword was near at hand. He sat there all night, the campfire throwing strange shadows on the trees, and the tears that still trickled down Sabrina's face catching the orange glow.

"Once more," Justarius said, a small note of frustration barely concealed in his voice. "You've almost got it."

Nearly exhausted, Bethany struggled to her feet once more and concentrated. Closing her eyes, she spoke the words that were supposed to trigger the spell. She felt the magic drain her a little bit more... maybe she'd gotten it this time. She opened her eyes excitedly to see... utter blackness. "Dammit!"

Justarius winced at the expletive and sighed. "We'll try again later, once you've rested a bit," he said, clearly eager to return to his studies.

Bethany simply nodded, sliding down the wall and burying her face in her hands with a frustrated moan. Justarius cast a glance at the discouraged mage, and then left the room.

With a sigh of her own, Bethany tilted her head back in exasperation, resting it against the wall. Her staff had fallen to the floor; she groped around with her hand until she felt smooth wood. Grasping it, she ran her hands along it until she reached the crystal at the top. Absently, she muttered the words once more, wishing with all her might that she could see the staff that she'd so recently been given. It was really quite amazing how much a person could see with their hands, she mused, running her fingers around the curves in the top and then even higher to the crystal that sat atop it, clutched in five small metal prongs. For instance, the wood was a dark, hard wood; she could tell just by the feel of it. The crystal itself had the slightest hint of blue to it... wait. Bethany paused, fingers resting on the crystal. "You can't see colors with your hands," she whispered to herself, passing a hand in front of her eyes. A pale-skinned hand flitted in front of her face. She opened her eyes in dead surprise and had another shock. She had been seeing with her eyes closed! Just to make sure, she blinked a few times. When her eyes were closed, she seemed to see almost through a veil, but somehow it made things clearer than when her eyes were open. Almost as if her eyelids were focusers, sort of like glasses, but then again not, as the colors were sharpened too. "I can see!" she exclaimed in quiet disbelief.

She stood, ready to go find Justarius and tell him he wouldn't need to come back, she had the spell. As she reached the door, she was about to head down the hallway leading to Justarius' chambers, but she lacked the energy all of a sudden, and, to her disappointment and dismay, her vision faded. It was as if she had cut open an artery, spilled her life's blood. Every movement took an effort, every word spoken required concentrated thought. She longed desperately to curl up under a soft blanket and sleep for days. As she tried to take another step, she swayed and nearly fell.

Another mage, passing by the door at that moment, saw her stumble and recognized that she was the young mage who was being kept in the Tower. He darted forward and steadied her. "Are you alright?" he asked, peering into her pale face. "What have you been casting? You look awful!"

Bethany grimaced, putting a hand to her aching head. "A spell of sight," she explained briefly.

"Next time you want to look into the future or past, I suggest you do so when you're more rested," the mage said.

Bethany glanced up in his general direction, but the mage noticed that her eyes did not meet his and did not focus. "That's not exactly what I meant," she said, blinking.

"What sort of spell did you..." the mage began, trailing off as he realized why something had felt wrong about her expression. Her eyes were steely-grey. All of her eye. No black graced the center where the pupil should have been. "I'm sorry," the mage continued awkwardly. "I did not realize you were..." He searched for the right word.

"Blind?" Bethany said coldly, a sardonic smile touching her lips.

The mage swallowed nervously, breaking the stiff moment by taking her arm and helping her straighten. "Shall we?" he asked courteously.

Bethany stiffened, feeling as if a lightning bolt had shot through her. "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name," she said, fighting to keep her voice level. It couldn't be Raistlin... It didn't sound like him... but that same phrase that they had used so often in days past...

"Dalamar," a voice broke in, "of Silvanesti."

Bethany's sightless eyes widened. "That's a coincidence," she thought amusedly, relieved and disappointed at the same time that it hadn't been Raistlin. She nodded to acknowledge that she had heard Dalamar, and allowed him to lead her back into the chamber and help her into a chair. "Is there anything else you require?" Dalamar asked as soon as she had settled herself.

"Well, unless there's some way you can keep a spell from draining my energy, then no," Bethany said tiredly.

"Actually, you could always store extra energy in your staff and draw it out of there," Dalamar suggested. "I believe that kind of crystal is capable of storing energy."

"Really?" Bethany said in surprise. "How do you do it?"

Dalamar sat down beside Bethany and patiently began to explain the complicated spell.

TBC


End file.
